


Scratches in the Night

by Adapted_Batteries



Category: Hat Films - Fandom, The Yogscast
Genre: Camp Counselors AU, M/M, more shippy fluff, smornby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 12:05:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6237931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adapted_Batteries/pseuds/Adapted_Batteries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt: “We’re both Camp Counselors and we both heard a spooky noise maybe we should sleep together”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scratches in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this one on a [different list](https://cpt-jayfaace.tumblr.com/post/126245292191/who-wants-some-more-aus) to the one I found for my Duncan and Kim fic, and started it soon after.

The cabin was eerily quiet as Ross got into his small bed. The ten bunk beds that lined the wooden walls were devoid of the boys that normally filled them, leaving himself and Smith alone at opposite ends of the large room. With the lack of murmurs and snores, Ross could hear a lot of sounds from outside the cabin that were normally drowned out: an owl hooting in a tree nearby, a rustle of leaves as wind passed through them, crickets chirping. It was quite relaxing, filling Ross with the hope of a good night’s sleep in peace, until something scratched against the wall of the cabin next to him. He froze, even holding his breath as if to make himself invisible, listening for the noise again, but all he could hear was Smith’s faint snores twenty-five feet away. 

He dismissed it as just a tree branch or his tired imagination, and tried to get some sleep; they had a few days to get the camp ready for a new wave of campers, and he needed to be awake for work. Plus, if he looked tired, Smith would joke around with him, saying something about being up all night wanking or something else he wouldn’t say around the kids. Ross would play it off, but he had to be careful to not let something slip; several nights Ross was left restless with memories of the day, from seeing Smith shirtless, glistening with lake water, or watching his toned arms pull back a bowstring, or countless other opportunities to stare at Smith.

Ross didn’t really know what Smith’s preference was. Several jokes Smith would make often seemed to hint at something, but the “obnoxiously obvious that it had to be a joke, but it’s Smith so it may be serious” flirting was always paired with laughs and winks. One of the other counselors knew Smith, they came from the same village, but Ross never wanted to ask directly for fear that Trott might tell Smith. So, Ross was left in an annoying limbo of only assumptions.

The noise didn't seem like it was coming back; after lying awake for thirty minutes listening and thinking, Ross fell back asleep. The sun rose all too soon several hours later, drifting in through the window at just the right angle to point solely at his eyes. It did this every morning, but Ross always woke up on his right side, no matter how hard he tried to stay on his left. As usual, he put his arm over his face, trying to catch just a few more minutes of sleep. Normally, the boys or the horn that played over the speakers prevented him from sleeping again, but neither of those were going off today. Smith said he had set an alarm, so Ross trusted that to wake him up as he dozed off into sleep once more. 

 

"Ross, mate, it's time to get up," Smith said in Ross's arms. Ross didn't like the idea of that, so he snuggled further into the crook of Smith's neck, stray auburn hairs tickling his forehead.

"Mmmmm, just five more minutes," Ross mumbled, with no intent of moving away from the body next to him in five minutes, but Smith wasn't having that for answer. 

"Come on, you have to get up," Smith responded. Ross felt like he was being shoved on the arm, But the man in bed with him wasn't doing it, so he opened his eyes to see the culprit.

Ross was in his cot, alone, at camp, and Smith was standing next to his bed, shoving him in the arm lightly. "Good morning Sunshine," the real Smith answered in a tone like Trott's when he said "sunshine," ignoring the blush starting to creep up on Ross's face.

"I'm up," Ross mumbled, savoring the last feelings of sleep before sitting up and stretching his arms. The room was still oddly quiet and empty as he looked around, all the camper mattresses bare and empty.

"You better be," Smith said as he walked to his end of the room. "We have the _exciting_ job of mucking out the horse stalls today." If it didn't smell so bad, Ross would actually like being in the barn. It had an amazing hay loft that had a wonderful view of the hills nearby, but all that manure stench wafted and collected up there along with the heat of the day. 

Once Ross and Smith were dressed for the day, they ate some breakfast in the mess hall and made their way to the barn. From the main buildings in camp, the barn and fields were almost a mile away, and with only staff around, it was a silent walk. The horses had been let out into the pasture already, so they got to work. "I think it smells worse every time I come here," Ross mused as he shoveled manure and hay into a faded blue wheelbarrow. Smith was a couple of stalls down, doing the same thing. 

"Pretty sure you say that every time we get assigned here, mate," Smith laughed, punctuating his sentence with a thud of manure in his own once red wheelbarrow. 

After they mucked out the stalls, they had to replace the bedding with hay from the loft. Ross convinced Smith to go up this time, leaving him down below to distribute hay to the now better-smelling stalls. “That’s the last one,” Ross yelled unnecessarily as he moved the new pile Smith just dropped to the right stall. He didn’t hear Smith come down the ladder, so once he finished distributing hay, he climbed up the ladder. Smith was sitting on the edge of the floor, his legs hanging out the open loft doors, sweaty body leaning against the doorframe. Ross was by no means silent as he went up the ladder, but he still stopped and watched Smith for awhile, taking in not only the view of the hills, but how picturesque Smith looked.

“You gonna just stare at me, or are you gonna come join me,” Smith chuckled, startling Ross out of his daze. Knowing better than to try and give an excuse, he simply padded his way over the warped and hay-covered plywood floor to take a seat next to him, mimicking his position so they weren’t completely squished together shoulder to shoulder. They sat like that for a while, staring at the landscape, enjoying the comfortable silence.

 

The day waned on as they did different tasks, stopping for lunch and dinner, before calling it a night. They both had books they were reading in their separate beds, the only way to kill time out at camp since they had no cell service. There was a knock on the door of their cabin, revealing Trott who probably came to talk to Smith. Ross looked up from his book to give him a nod of acknowledgement before going back to reading, not paying much mind that Smith followed Trott outside. In fact he didn’t even notice until Smith came back in a few minutes later, accidentally letting the door slam against the frame. “Sorry,” Smith said in a low voice as he slinked back into his bed. 

Ross lost track of time as he read, and looked up to find Smith asleep in his bed, semi-slumped against the wall. Figuring he was at a good stopping point in his book, Ross got out of his bed and padded over to the sole light switch in the cabin near the door, pausing yet again to look at Smith. He must have been dreaming; his eyes moved under his eyelids like he was watching birds fly about. He thought about moving Smith down to a better position for his back, mainly just an excuse to be close to him, but Ross didn’t want to risk waking Smith up, so he turned off the lights and padded back to his bed, once again taking in the peaceful silence. This time there was no creepy noise, and Ross fell asleep quickly.

“ROSSSS,” a voice whispered loudly, rousing Ross from his sleep. “Ross, mate,” Smith’s voice called from the dark, a faint tremor in it. Ross knew it was pretty late in the night; the moon was shining in the window above his bed, so this must be important.

“What,” Ross croaked, his voice hoarse with sleep.

“Did you hear that?” Smith asked from across the cabin.

“Hear wha-” Ross’s query was cut short by horrible scratching, worse than what he heard the night before. “What was that?!” Ross whispered harshly, trying to keep his voice down.

“I don’t know, mate, it’s happened a few times already,” Smith answered, inhaling sharply as a new noise came in, a low whooping, almost like an owl, but much more sinister. Two thoughts went through Ross’s mind: either there was someone pranking them, or there was something else outside. As he thought, Ross hadn’t noticed Smith make his way silently to the back of the cabin with his torch to Ross.

“It was coming from just outside the wall by my bed,” Smith stated, watching the door like a child watching their closet at night for monsters. Ross was about to chide him for being so childish, until the weird hooting happened again with more scratching, making both men jump and curse. “I don’t want to stay up there, next to the door, do you mind if I-”

“No, not at all,” Ross interjected, lifting up his blanket a bit too eagerly. _Get a hold of yourself, Ross_ he chided himself. As soon as Smith settled into the way too small bed for two grown men to sleep in without touching, the noise occurred again, a bit fainter, but longer this time, and no less creepy. Without thinking Ross grabbed for Smith, finding his hand that happened to be next to his. Smith didn’t protest, even taking his hand and holding it tight. They stayed like that for a while, both pairs of eyes watching the door, waiting for movement.

Eventually Ross started falling asleep again, letting his head lull onto Smith’s shoulder without thinking. He felt Smith rest his head on his, and he could’ve sworn he felt Smith kiss his head right before he dropped back off into sleep.

The next morning’s sunlight poured in through the window, waking Ross up. At first he thought he was having recurring dreams, for he dreamed this exact scenario yesterday morning before Smith woke him up, but Smith felt real, and he could smell the familiar scent of Smith, feel the heat of his body pressed against his in the small twin bed. _I don’t think I’m dreaming,_ Ross concluded as he snuggled into the crook of smiths neck, just as he had in his dreams, the hairs actually tickling his forehead this time. “Good morning to you too,” Smith whispered suddenly, making Ross jump. Smith slipped his arm over Ross’s before he could pull it away, letting him know it was ok. After a while, Smith turned to face Ross, their faces mere inches apart thanks to the small bed. “Just to let you know, you have Trott to thank for this,” Smith said with a smirk.

“W...what?” Ross stuttered, confused.

“Well, there wasn’t a creature outside last night, but it wasn’t really a prank either,” Smith explained. Ross took a few seconds to process this. 

“Wait, you set this up?” Ross asked, confused even more, but also excited at what this meant.

“Yeah,” Smith answered sheepishly, suddenly blushing.

“Well I guess you have Trott to thank for this too,” Ross responded.

“For wha-” Ross cut Smith off with his own lips, something he had wanted to do for a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the last one shot I have in my "supply," but I'm currently making good progress on "Not So Lonely Anymore." I think for me it'll be easiest if I took a break until the end of school for me, since it is my senior year and golf will take up a lot of my time in April. Rest assured, I want to start putting out "Not So Lonely Anymore" when I graduate, and try to complete it over the summer and fall this year.
> 
> If you want to know what I'm up to, I sometimes post updates on my [ Tumblr ](https://adapted-batteries.tumblr.com) (same username as here, Adapted-Batteries).


End file.
